


Human Shield

by marvels_blue_phoenix



Series: Whumptober 2019 [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Human shield, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvels_blue_phoenix/pseuds/marvels_blue_phoenix
Summary: It started with an alien invasion and ended with one of their own in the med bay, their youngest blaming himself for what happened





	Human Shield

“How you doing there kid?” Tony asked over the comms, blasting an alien with his repulsor.   
“I’m – woah – I’m okay,” Peter replied, webbing aliens down as he dodged their attacks.  
The team had been enjoying a calm day cuddled up in front of the TV when FRIDAY gave the alert that aliens were attacking.   
The team suited up and made their way over, Peter getting all the civilians to safety before joining them.   
Now here they all were fighting some damn aliens, who learnt quickly and wouldn’t stay down.  
Peter was really starting to hate them.   
Before he could think anything else the teens senses went off. He turned just in time to see an arrow hit an alien in the chest before he webbed in to a nearby wall.   
“Thanks Uncle Clint,” Peter said, looking over to where Clint was perched.   
“You got it bud,” Clint said, saluting him. 

A few more minutes went by and the aliens just seemed to keep coming, this time with explosives. Peter jumped and rolled out of the way of one explosion before webbing up the alien. His senses tingled before he felt claws slash his right side, sending him down with a cry.   
The bastards were getting quicker.   
“Peter!” Clint yelled shooting the alien as he ran towards the teen, “guys Peter’s down and needs medical attention now!”   
The archer shot a few more arrows as the aliens started closing in. One alien threw something that stopped a few feet away and began rapidly flashing.   
“Shit,” the man cursed, realizing too late what it was.  
A grenade. 

The next few moments blurred together.   
Clint threw himself over Peter as the ground and a nearby building exploded at the same time. Debris rained down on top of them, the archer taking the brunt of it.   
“Peter! Clint! Talk to me,” Tony yelled over the comms, panic clear in his voice.   
“Dad,” Peter croaked, coughing on the smoke and dust, “Clint’s hurt.”   
“Where are you buddy?”   
“Under a bunch of rubble,” Clint grunted through gritted teeth, “hurry.”  
His head was pounding, vision starting to swim and darken. He could feel the blood seeping from where he’d been hit in the head, but he needed to stay awake to keep the weight of the rubble off Peter. The same teen who was starting to look a little pale.   
After what felt like hours the weight was finally lifted off of Clint and he collapsed next to Peter with a sigh, eyes slipping closed.   
The two were carried away on stretchers and rushed to the med bay. 

Peter’s side was disinfected, cleaned and wrapped in bandages. It would be healed by morning.   
The teen changed into joggers and a hoodie before going to find his Dad in the kitchen. Tony was in joggers and a t-shirt, hair slightly damp from his shower.   
“Hey kiddo,” He greeted.   
Peter just threw his arms around his Dad, face hidden in the man’s chest.   
“Hey, hey, hey,” Tony soothed when Peter started sobbing, arms wrapping around his son, “it’s okay bug, it’s okay.”   
After a few minutes Peter’s sobs had died down and he felt up to eating some pizza.   
Once he’d had his fill Tony sent the teen to bed to get some rest. 

Two hours.   
The teen had been trying to get to sleep for two hours now but the guilt was eating him alive. He sighed and sat up, the image of Clint getting hurt playing in his mind over and over again. The teen growled in frustration before climbing into the vents, making his way to the med bay.   
The teen dropped down into the dimly lit room and felt his chest squeeze when his eyes landed on Clint.   
The man’s head and chest were wrapped in bandages, an IV in his arm, scratches littering the rest of his body and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.   
Tears welled in the teen’s eyes.   
This was all his fault.   
It was his fault Clint was like this.   
Why was he so stupid? 

Peter slowly walked over to the bedside.   
“I’m so sorry Uncle Clint,” he whispered, voice cracking, “I’m so, so sorry.”   
The teen climbed onto the bed and lay on his uninjured side, curling as close to the archer as possible without hurting him further.   
“Please be okay.”


End file.
